Jasmine and Thumbscrew have gone off to Chester for the weekend. It is the sort of thing we used to do but not anymore. Since we have no money I can only assume that Thumbscrew is paying.
I cleaned the house as best I could but when you have little in the way of cleaning fluids it becomes difficult. I put on four loads of washing and hung out s similar quantity.
Last night Squid was spinning around in the kitchen like a top. She does it so that she gets dizzy. This time she went too far and fell like a felled tree straight onto her nose which she broke. Her eye on the left side is also badly bruised. She looks terrible. Seeing her like that brought a lump to my throat. Fortunately, Jimbob, Jasmine and Thumbscrew were there when the accident occurred and were able to click the nose back into place. It is at moments like these, when she suddenly is revealed as being so irresponsible, so childlike and so vulnerable that my heart goes out to her.
I have no money to buy petrol or at least insufficient funds to get me to work and also drive to Mum’s so a little before noon I set off walking. I had no injection this morning but monitored by blood sugar throughout the morning to make sure it didn’t rise too high. By noon it was 15.7 which, taking into account the six miles I was about to walk was fine.
On my way there I took the hard road of concrete pavements rather than go through the woods. It was dumb move but once I start something I seldom change my mind or my route. I got to Mum’s at half past one. She needed groceries, the lawn needed cutting and some other chores doing. I did the shopping first, walking to the local shops, then came back, tidied up the kitchen, emptying the bins then went to mow the lawn. The flower beds were in need of the earth being turned so I hoed and dug and trimmed the edges. When I had finished the overall effect was good. It is a pretty garden that even someone like me with my lack of green fingers cannot do much harm to.
Mum always worries about me. I guess it is something parents always do as evidenced by my concerns with Squid. Mum insisted that I catch the bus home and gave me £5 to pay for the fare. I love my Mum but I am also my father’s son. A twelve mile walk will not kill me so I made the return trip on foot but this time went through Hockley Woods pocketing the fiver for petrol money.
Hockley Woods and I have a history. I used to walk through the woods on my way to work in the seventies. It hasn’t changed that much even though the bridle paths have had a layer of gravel laid beneath the earth. They are still wide to allow horse riders and walkers to pass each other safely. The trees in the woods were stark and leafless stretching up like bony fingers toward the sky. A family with a little dog passed me. Their little girl ran a zig zag course at me making me dodge to one side. The parents called out a sorry and I just laughed. It was a beautiful walk. Very peaceful, very tranquil. From Rayleigh, where Mum lives to Hockley High Street is three miles. The route I took is probably slightly less, maybe two and one half miles. All of it is either woodlands or fields.
I left the woods coming out near the Spa public house. I then walked a short way to the next pub, The White Hart, Hawkwell where I took the suburban concrete road walking it for a short distance until it turned into a rural, unmade path that took me through the back paths past Hockely, Hawkwell and onto Ashingdon.
The same green features here as in my Surrey walks. The difference is that Surrey has its lovely rolling hills whereas Essex is flat but still lovely if less leafy. The houses of Surrey were built when the Stock Brokers of London moved out to effectively colonise the nearby countryside of Surrey. They are often large houses made to look old but are in fact mostly of the thirties. Essex homes are the farms I pass are much like the French, rustic, cobbled together with corrugated sheets, old pallets and rickety fences. I passed stable and catteries, a mish-mash of small holdings that were self-built.
The path I walk runs like a broken snake. It first bears left then twists right. A gulley has been dug to my left and has a steady flow of water running along it. I came to a fork in the path. I was sure that I needed to go left. A young couple, her on a bike him on foot walking a dog appear to my right. I asked them which way to Ashingdon sounding remarkably like a tourist in my home manor. They told me to take the right. I did as they suggested arriving home half an hour later.
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all words and art are copyright © of Russell 'C.J' Duffy. For another side of CJ go here: sOMeThiNg For tHE wEeKeND, SiR?
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